Subtle Distractions
by kjt1
Summary: An offworld injury leads to tense times for SJ - not really angsty, it's my first ever Stargate fic - Complete
1. 1

Title:  Subtle Distractions

Rating:  PG-13

Disclaimer:  ::sigh::  Not mine, but I keep on wishing.

Spoilers:  None really, but assume the setting is Season 7, pre 'Heroes'

Thanks:  A HUGE thank you to Ellen who acted as beta for this fic and highly amused me with her comments.

Notes:  This is my first ever Stargate fic, though I hope it doesn't show :-)  I actually planned to write another fic, but decided to go with a kind of cliché one to get myself started.

Feedback:  Always appreciated, it all helps to learn and improve

**

"Carter, you alright?" asked Jack as SG-1 headed back towards the Stargate.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, 'cos I'm not wading into there to help you out."

"Gee, thanks, Sir," she deadpanned in reply.

Samantha Carter was currently sitting on her butt in a puddle – a large, muddy puddle.  She'd been trekking back to the gate with the rest of her team when she slipped on a particularly wet piece of mud, a piece that had been carefully avoided by Colonel O'Neill, but that Sam had not seen.  She had twisted as she slipped and ended up falling sideways into the puddle that they'd all been trying to side-step.  At the last second, she had managed to turn herself so that she landed butt-first, rather than head first.

The puddle was deeper than it looked and, after a few moments of contemplation and embarrassment, Sam had shifted so that she was sitting in the shallower water.  The guys thought she was putting off stepping out of the puddle because they were going to laugh at her as soon as she stood up; however, the actual reason was that she couldn't stand up, at least not easily.  She'd felt her ankle go when she slipped and she was now pretty certain that it was totally wrecked.

"Carter, we don't have all day; are you coming?"

"Uh, yes, Sir, of course," she replied, using all the strength she had to pull herself to her feet without crying out in pain.  Dipping her head so that they couldn't see her wince, she stood up and walked out of the puddle, falling into step alongside her team while checking her weapons to make sure they weren't waterlogged.

After a half-hour of walking, Colonel O'Neill commented on how quickly it was getting dark and decided to make camp for the night.

"We should be close enough to be in radio contact to let Hammond know," he advised them all.

"Sir, we should be able to make it to the 'gate before it gets too dark," commented Sam.

"Considering you fell in the daylight, Carter, I'm not taking any chances in the dark," he joked, grinning as he saw her resultant scowl.

In actual fact, Sam was glad that they were going to set up camp, as she really didn't think she could walk much further.  She had never been so thankful for the boots she had to wear, knowing they were the only thing stopping her ankle from swelling.

*

The tents were erected in record time and Daniel set about heating up their food while Jack and Teal'c secured the area for the night.

"Carter," called Jack, "make sure you change before we eat, you stink."

"Thanks, Sir," she replied sarcastically.

"The food smells bad enough without you adding to it," continued Jack.

"I get the message, Sir, I'm going to change now."

"Good," he nodded, sitting down and checking his weapons.

"Carter," yelled Jack around ten minutes later, "the food is ready."  No reply was forthcoming from Sam's tent, so he tried again.  "Carter!"  When she still didn't emerge, he decided to go and check on her in person.  "Carter, you decent?" he asked from just outside her tent.

"Yes, Sir," she quietly replied.

Jack opened the tent flap and poked his head inside.

"I know the food is bad, but you gotta eat," he told her.  "Hey, you haven't changed," he said accusingly when he noticed she was still wearing her mud-covered BDUs.

"I know."  
  


"Carter, if I have to order you to get changed, I will.  I really don't want to spend the evening sitting next to someone who smells like they've fallen in…well…"

"A muddy, smelly puddle?" supplied Sam.

"Yeah.  So, get changed."

"I can't."

"What?  Oh, don't tell me you didn't bring a change of BDUs?"

"No, I did, it's just…"

"Just what?" he prompted.

"I can't get my pants off, Sir."

"What?  Why not?" he asked, looking her up and down to try and figure out what she was talking about.

"To get my pants off, I need to take my boots off."

"And?"

"And I can't take my boots off."

"Why not?  Carter, what the hell is going on?"

"I can't reach to take my boots off, Sir," she admitted.  "It hurts too much."

"Hurts?  What hurts?" he queried, instantly alarmed.

"My ankle."  He looked at her questioningly and she continued, "I think I hurt it when I slipped and fell."

"You _think_ you hurt it?"

"Okay, I _know_ I hurt it and if I take my boots off, it's going to swell."

"Did you just twist it?"

"I'm not sure, but it hurts more than a simple sprain."

"Alright, let's take a look," he said, dropping to his knees and crawling into the tent completely.

"Sir?"

"I'm going to take your boot off, Carter.  Which ankle is it?"

"My right."

"Okay, I'm gonna take your left boot off first because you're gonna have to get changed, no matter what, and you need your right ankle supported while I take your left boot off."  Sam nodded, knowing what he said made sense.  Once he had removed her left boot, he turned his attention to the right one.  "This is probably gonna hurt a bit."

"I know," she said, biting her lip in anticipation of the pain.  "Owwww!" she said a few moments later as Jack removed the boot, supporting her foot with his right hand while he discarded the boot with his left.

"Sorry, I tried to be gentle, but it's not easy with these things."

"I know, Sir, it's okay."

He surveyed her ankle and watched as it swelled up before his eyes.

"So, what's the verdict, Sir?" she asked as she leaned on her elbows and strained to look.

"You probably don't want to look, Carter," he told her.

"That bad?"

"Let's just say you won't be wearing your boot again for a while.  I'm gonna have to strap this up."  He looked at her and she nodded her approval.  "Daniel," he called loudly.

"Yeah?"

"Bring me my pack, would you?"

Daniel appeared a moment later and stuck his head in the tent.

"Here you go, what's up?"  Looking at Sam, he added, "Ah, I see.  What happened?"

"Carter decided it would be a good idea to not tell us she wrecked her ankle when she fell, meaning she walked on it when she shouldn't have and probably made it much worse."

Sam rolled her eyes, but knew he was right.  She gave Daniel a weak smile as he helped Jack pull out the first-aid kit from his pack, so that Jack could still support her ankle.

"Need any help?" offered Daniel.

"Nah, I got it, you'd better check on the food."

"It'll be okay, it's not like it can taste much worse."

"I was thinking more of Teal'c eating it all."

"He's in his tent, won't be back out for a while."

"Ah.  Still, I got this, you go eat."

"You sure?" queried Daniel, looking to Sam for confirmation.  They both nodded at him and he left.

"I figured you probably don't want Daniel hearing all the expletives that will come out of your mouth when I start strapping this," Jack teased as Sam looked at him curiously.  "I don't want you feeling responsible for corrupting him."

Sam laughed, but then winced as her body's laughter movements caused her ankle to hurt more.

"And I won't be corrupting you, Sir?"

"I think we both know I'm already way more corrupted than you can imagine, Carter," he grinned.

Sam smiled at his comment and then lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes while he strapped her ankle.  He was as gentle as possible, but she still couldn't help the occasional hiss of pain from escaping her lips.

"Done," he said a few minutes later, carefully lowering her foot to the ground again and replacing the unused bandage in the first-aid kit.

"Thanks, Sir."

"Now, time to get you changed."

"Sir?"

"Like I said earlier, Carter, you smell, so you need to change your pants, they're covered in mud."  Sam tried to sit up again, but found she still couldn't manage.  Jack moved slightly and pushed her back down.  "You're gonna need some help, Carter," he said softly, almost apologetically.

"Sir, I…" she trailed off, feeling her face start to flush.

"You can have your choice of helpers; me, Daniel or Teal'c."

"I can probably manage, Sir."

"Carter, you can't even sit up; how are you gonna get changed by yourself?"

Her shoulders sagged as she acknowledged his words and she pondered the three choices of helper.  Daniel would get embarrassed, she knew; she would be embarrassed if it was the Colonel, so Teal'c was the logical choice.  She looked at the Colonel, but his face was unreadable.  The fact that he had put a mask on spoke volumes to her, however, and she made her decision.

"If you don't mind, Sir," she started and he nodded, starting to move away from her, "I'd appreciate it if you could help me."

Jack was surprised by her choice, but tried to hide that fact.  Nodding silently, he moved so that he was kneeling beside her waist.

"Okay, uh…"

"Sir, it's not as if I have anything you haven't seen before, I'm just a woman," said Sam, trying to ease the tension in the highly confined space.

"Right, right," he agreed, shaking himself into action.  "Okay, first things first, where are your clean pants?"

"They're still in my pack.  I was too busy trying to figure out how to get my boots off earlier," she admitted.

Her pack was behind him, just beside the entrance to the tent, so he turned around to retrieve her clean pants.  Sam took advantage of his back being turned and managed to unzip her pants and slide them to her mid-thighs, allowing her to pull her t-shirt down so that it was covering her from mid-thigh upwards.  Turning around, Jack noticed this and gave her a small smile of appreciation at her attempt to minimize their embarrassment.

"Alright, Carter, I'm just gonna lift your legs so I can get these off, okay?" he said as he started to tug her pants down her legs.  He tossed the mud-covered pants aside and gently lowered her bandaged foot to the ground while he slid her left leg into the new pants.  Sam gritted her teeth as he started to ease the other pant leg over her ankle, but he was as gentle and quick as possible and he soon turned his back again so that she could pull her pants the rest of the way up and fasten them.

"Thanks, Sir," she said, indicating that she was dressed again.

He turned around and smiled at her.

"Do you need to change anything else?"

"No, I should be okay, my top half didn't get too badly splashed."

"Good," he nodded.  "Right, time for food.  Daniel," he yelled, "heat up the Air Force delights for us please."

"Sure," called Daniel.

"Sir, I'm not really hungry."

"Funny, I don't remember asking you if you were; this isn't an option, Carter."

"Yes, Sir," she sighed.

"Think you can manage to join us outside?"

"Yeah, just about."

Jack backed out of the tent to give her room to maneuver and, after much cursing under her breath, she managed to follow him out and hobble to the fireside.

*

"Alright, I'll take first watch, then you, Teal'c and, Daniel you're last," announced Jack as they finished eating and he noticed Carter forcing her eyes open.

"What about me, Sir?"  
  
"What about you?"

"When am I on watch?"

"You're not."

"Sir?"

"Carter, you're injured; what are you gonna do if someone appears, hobble after them?"  He tempered his words with a smirk, but it was clear he was serious.

"But, Sir –"

"Get some rest, Carter, that's an order."

"Yes, Sir," she agreed reluctantly.  Daniel gave her a comforting smile, which she returned as she sadly hobbled back to her tent.

Daniel, Teal'c and Jack talked for a few minutes before Jack headed for Carter's tent to retrieve his yo-yo from his pack.  As he entered, he noticed that she was constantly moving around, trying to get comfortable.

"You need to keep your ankle elevated," he told her.  She looked at him blankly; she was tired and unable to think straight.  He removed his sleeping bag from his pack, deciding he'd share with Carter to make sure she didn't go into shock during the night, and then took out his inflatable pillow and placed it under her ankle.  "Use this," he said as he lowered her ankle onto the pillow.

"But, Sir –"

"Carter, go to sleep," he said seriously as he exited the tent to start his watch.

**

TBC…

**


	2. 2

Disclaimers, etc. in Part 1

Part 2

**

"O'Neill, it is time for me to take watch."

"Oh, thanks, Teal'c."

"You are welcome to use my sleeping bag."

"Nah, it's okay, Teal'c, I'm gonna share with Carter; I need to make sure she doesn't go into shock or anything."

"Major Carter is alright?"

"Yeah, I've been checking on her and she's sleeping, but tossing around a bit."

"I imagine it is hard to be comfortable with an ankle injury," commented Teal'c.

"Yeah, it is," remembered Jack.  "Do me a favor and check on her every so often?"

"Of course," nodded Teal'c, "but is that not the point of you sharing her tent?"

"Yeah, but two of us looking out for her can't hurt."

Jack rose and headed for the tent.

*

As soon as he entered the tent, Jack remembered that he didn't have a pillow anymore and sighed to himself.  Grabbing his pack, he pulled it to the top of his sleeping bag, intending to use it as a makeshift pillow.

"Sir?"

"Oh, hey, Carter.  Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, I wasn't asleep."

"You weren't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Sir?"

"I ordered you to get some sleep," he said with a smile.

"Yes, and I did get some sleep, but now I'm awake again."

Jack could tell by her voice that she was still tired.

"Hurting?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"Did you take painkillers?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm on duty, Sir."

"Carter, you're hurt, so you take painkillers," he admonished.

"I'm alright, Sir."

Jack started fumbling around in his pack, eventually finding a flashlight and switching it on.  Using the beam from the flashlight, he managed to locate the first-aid kit and remove some painkillers.  He then lifted his canteen of water and held it and the pills out for her.

"Carter, take these."

"Sir –"

"Carter, it's an order."  He moved closer, but suddenly felt her hand push him away.  "Cart–"

Any further words were stopped as Sam brought her hands to her mouth and vomited.

"Oh, God," she said with immense embarrassment a moment later.

"Carter, it's okay," said Jack gently.  She turned to look at him and he gave her a comforting smile.  "I'm guessing this is delayed shock," he told her.  "Let's get you cleaned up."

Placing the pills and water on his sleeping bag, he burrowed in his pack again to find a facecloth.  Dripping a little water on it to make it damp, he wiped Carter's face before letting her wipe her hands.

"Okay, your clean t-shirt in your pack?" he asked.

"No, I uh… this is my clean one," she said sadly, looking down at the t-shirt she was wearing, which now had trails of vomit down the front.

"You changed earlier?  I thought your shirt didn't get much mud on it?"

"It didn't, but… I kinda did this earlier," she admitted.

"Did what?"  At her look, he guessed, "You threw up earlier?"

"Yes."

"Why the hell didn't you let me know?"

"You were on watch, Sir, and besides, I managed to get myself sorted."  Jack started looking around and Sam continued, "I rolled the t-shirt up and wrapped it in the mud covered pants, Sir."

"Ah.  I meant to throw those outside to air off earlier, I guess I definitely have to do that now; this place is smelling worse than Daniel's socks," he grinned.  Carter smiled a weak smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.  "So, you need something to change into?"

"I'll be okay, Sir," she said unconvincingly.

"Still, I don't want to have to share a tent with someone who smells," he joked.  "I have a spare t-shirt."  He rummaged through his pack once more and removed the t-shirt, holding it out for her.

"Sir, I can't wear your shirt."

"Why not?"

"For one, it'll be too big for me," she pointed out.

"I'm sure you'll survive, Carter, and it's gotta be better than keeping that one on, hasn't it?"

Knowing he had a point, she slowly nodded her head.

"Sir, could you…"

"Oh, sure," he said, realizing she wanted him to turn around while she changed into his t-shirt.

"I'm done," she said a few moments later.

"Alright, gimme your shirt and I'll put it and the other stuff outside."

"Thanks, Sir."

Jack took the dirty clothes outside and nodded to Teal'c, who turned as soon as he heard movement.  Walking to the fireside, Jack picked up a bowl that had been washed earlier and headed back to the tent.

"Is everything alright, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c, looking from the bowl in Jack's hands to the pile of clothes outside the tent.

"Yeah, we just…uh…" Jack trailed off, not wanting to let Teal'c know what happened as it would embarrass Carter further.  "Everything's fine, I'm just gonna get some sleep now."

Teal'c nodded and returned his eyes to scanning the surrounding area, leaving Jack free to re-enter the tent.

"Carter, I'm gonna pour some water into this bowl so that you can brush your teeth, okay?" said Jack quietly.

Sam nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness as her mouth really tasted nasty thanks to the earlier vomiting fit.  She reached into her pack and removed her toothbrush and toothpaste, using the water in the bowl to clean her teeth properly and then taking a drink from the canteen of water when she was finished.  Jack took the bowl from her and popped his head out of the tent to pour the water onto the ground.

"You ready for some painkillers now?" he asked once he'd closed the tent-flap again.

"I don't think so, Sir; I don't know if I could keep them down."

"Well, if you don't take them, the chances are you'll throw up again anyway due to the pain and the shock, whereas, if you do take them, yes, you might throw up, but you might not and they might dull the pain enough to let you sleep."

It was another valid point and Sam agreed, taking the pills he held out for her and washing them down with another swig of water.

"You should take your pillow back, Sir," she said as Jack started to lie down, placing his hands behind his head.

"Nah, it's okay, you use it for your ankle."

"I can use my pack, I just need something to keep it elevated."

"No, actually, I've got a better idea," said Jack, sitting up suddenly and leaving the tent, returning a minute later with a sleeping bag.  "Teal'c isn't using it right now," he explained, "so you can use it for your ankle and I'll have my pillow back."

"Good plan, Sir," she smiled, lifting her leg so he could swap the pillow for the sleeping bag.

"Okay, you ready to get some sleep?"

"I'll try," she promised.

It was good enough for Jack and he climbed into his sleeping bag, lay back and switched off the flashlight.

"Let me know if you need anything, Carter."

"Yes, Sir."

*

"Daniel, where's Colonel O'Neill?" asked Sam as she emerged from the tent next morning to find that Jack was nowhere to be seen.

"Call of nature," replied Daniel.  "How's the ankle?"

Sam sat down beside him and gratefully took the coffee he held out for her.

"A little better, thanks.  Morning, Teal'c," she said as Teal'c joined them.

"Major Carter," he nodded.

As Sam was looking at Teal'c, she noticed that her dirty clothes were no longer outside her tent.  She wondered what had happened to them and made a mental note to ask Colonel O'Neill later.

"What wondrous things do we have for breakfast, Daniel?" asked Jack as he emerged from the bushes near the tents.

"Oh, you know, the usual stuff," smiled Daniel.

"Morning, Sir," said Sam brightly, smiling up at him.

"Carter," he said in acknowledgement, nodding, but only holding her gaze for a moment before turning back to Daniel.  "Any coffee left?"

"Sure, Jack," replied Daniel, pouring some coffee and handing it to Jack.

They ate their breakfast in relative silence, though there was a brief argument when Jack held out some painkillers for Sam.  He finally told her he would order her to take them, so she acquiesced, but she wasn't happy with the tone he was taking with her, something just seemed off.

"Alright, let's pack up," said Jack after they finished.  "Hammond is expecting us back in two hours."

"Uh, I need to…" said Sam.

"To what?" queried Jack.

"Bathroom."

"Oh, right.  You'll need help to get to the spot we're using; I'll take you."

"Thanks, Sir," she said gratefully, placing her right arm around his neck and leaning on him for support, so that her hurt ankle didn't take much weight.

*

"Okay, Carter, there you go, I'll be back in five."

"Thanks," she smiled as he walked away.

Sam was surprised when it wasn't Colonel O'Neill who came to help her back to the camp; it was Daniel.

"Is the Colonel busy?" she asked as she leaned on Daniel.

"He's helping Teal'c pack the tents."  
  


"Daniel, do you notice something wrong with him today?"

"Teal'c?"

"No, Colonel O'Neill."

"Uh, no, not really."

"Daniel."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with him in relation to _me_," said Daniel.

"Meaning you have noticed something wrong with him… in relation to _me_, right?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant at all."

"Daniel, it's alright, I know there's something wrong.  He hardly said two words to me over breakfast or when we helped me to here.  I wish I knew what I'm supposed to have done though."

"You don't know?"

"No.  I mean, everything seemed fine last night."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  Why, do you know something I don't?"

"He's pissed at you, Sam."

"What?  Why?"  Sam stopped walking, meaning Daniel had to stop as well, and she looked at him carefully.  "Daniel?"

"You didn't tell him you were hurt."

"What?  Why would he pissed about that?  And, if he is, why didn't he say something last night?"

"I don't know why he didn't say anything last night; I actually asked him that when we talked this morning before you woke up, but he just said there had been other things to do."  Sam dipped her head as she remembered the vomiting incident.  "As for why he's pissed, think about it, Sam."

"What does that mean?"

"Sam, you know Jack, you know what he's like when someone on his team gets hurt."

"Daniel, it's just my ankle."

"Yeah, but… Why didn't you tell us, Sam?"

"I don't know, Daniel, I just didn't see the need."

He gave her a very skeptical look, but let the comment pass.

"You should talk to him."

"He obviously doesn't want to talk to me so, what's the point?"

"The point is that you need to sort this out.  Sam, this isn't some stiff military base on which you only know people by rank and where you can't trust anyone but yourself.  This is us, your teammates and friends; you can trust us.  And, before you say it," he continued, raising a hand to stop Sam from interrupting, "yes, in the first place, Jack is your CO, but next to that he's also your friend and he cares about what happens to you, just like the rest of us."

"And there really is no other way around it?"

"Bottom line? No."

"I still don't get it, though. I mean, it's not like I'm heavily injured. If that were the case, I could understand his behavior, but I just hurt my ankle; all this over a stupid accident?!"

Daniel sighed in exasperation.

"Sam."

"Alright, alright, I'll talk to him, or I'll try," she answered dejectedly.

"Thanks.  Come on, let's get back before they send a search party."

*

"Alright, let's head out," said Jack once everything was packed up and the area returned to its original state.  The other three SG-1 members nodded.  "Daniel, help Carter, would you?"

"Sam, I thought you were gonna talk to him?" said Daniel quietly as he helped Sam start walking towards the 'gate.

"I haven't had a chance, Daniel."

"You'll talk to him when we get back though, right?"

"I don't know," she admitted.  At Daniel's accusing look, she continued, "I might not need to, whatever is bothering him might just go away."

"It won't."

"Daniel, what do you know?  What has he said to you?"

"He hasn't said much, Sam, but I'm pretty sure I know what's bothering him and it won't just go away."

"I'll try and talk to him when we get back, okay?"

"Make sure you do, Sam, for your own sake… and for his."

*

"Sir?"

Jack looked up from his paperwork-strewn desk and looked at her.

"Carter, what can I do for you?" he asked in a nonchalant tone.

"I, uh… Do you mind if I sit down?"

"No, of course not; sorry, I should have offered, given your ankle."

"It's okay, Sir," she smiled, closing the office door and sitting down opposite him.

"So, what do you need?"

He was giving her his attention, but his eyes kept flicking back to his desk, avoiding her gaze.

"Sir, have I done something to offend you?" she asked bluntly, her words surprising Jack completely.

"Offend me?  What makes you ask that?"

Though he sounded surprised, Sam heard the 'uh oh' tone in his voice and knew he wasn't looking forward to her confronting him.

"Ever since I woke up this morning, you've been distant with me, Sir."  Jack said nothing, but he met her eyes and merely raised his eyebrows questioningly.  "It feels like you have some kind of problem with me, but I'm afraid I have no idea what it is; can you please enlighten me so that we can sort it out?"

"I don't have a problem with you, Carter," said Jack carefully.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't believe you."

"Be careful, Carter," he warned.

"Sir, please, I need to know what I've done wrong, because I honestly don't have a clue."

Her voice was beginning to waver and she tried to convince herself it was simply because she was still in pain; however, she knew it was because she couldn't believe she was having to have this conversation.  Jack looked at her for a moment before letting his eyes fall back to his desk.

"You haven't _offended_ me, Carter, you've disappointed me."

The word was the most hurtful Sam could have imagined; he had just told her she'd done the one thing she always vowed she'd never do.

"How?" she managed to ask, her voice cracking even on such a small word.

"You lied to me."  He raised his eyes and met her own as he spoke, his tone measured and calm, adding to her inner turmoil.

"Sir?"

"You told me you weren't hurt, Carter, yet I see a bandage on your ankle; wonder what that's for, since you're not hurt?" he said sarcastically.

"_That's_ what you're mad about?" asked Sam incredulously.

"I'm not mad," he stated.  At Carter's look, he amended the statement by saying, "I'm pissed, there's a difference."  Sam didn't know what to say, so she remained silent.  "Why did you lie, Carter?"

"Sir, is this really a big deal?  It's just an ankle injury."

"Yeah, it's _just_ an ankle injury, but you didn't tell me about it.  What if it was something more serious, would you not have told me about that either?  What was the problem, did you think I would laugh at you?" he ranted.

"You _did_ laugh at me, Sir," Sam pointed out, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

"I wouldn't have if I'd known you were hurt."

"Sir,I'm sorry, but I really don't get what the problem is."

"Carter, when you're hurt, you're supposed to report it.  How am I supposed to write up the mission report and say that I didn't know you were injured until hours after it happened, by which time you'd walked on the injury and probably made it a lot worse?  How is that going to look?  Think it's going to make me seem a good CO?"

"You're pissed because I've made you look like a bad CO?  Sir, if I have, then I'm sorry, but I really don't think anyone will think that… anyone who does obviously doesn't know you, so what do they matter?  The only people reading your reports who don't know you are those in Washington and, forgive my bluntness, Sir, but you don't normally care what they think."

"I don't care what they think about _me_, Carter, but it's more than my reputation that can be affected by something like this."

"Sir?"

"Carter, you know better than to hide an injury, yet you did; how is that going to look?"

"I don't know, Sir," she admitted, "not too good, I guess."

"No, not too good.  Hammond is already questioning what happened."

"He is?" asked Sam with surprise; General Hammond had not asked too many questions during the briefing.

"Yeah, he kept the briefing short so that you could go rest, but I then got the third degree about why I didn't know you were injured."

Sam looked at him and realized there was an air of hurt in his demeanor and it was slightly evident in his tone.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I don't know why I didn't tell you."

"You sure?"

"Sir?"

"Carter, I need to know if there was a reason you didn't tell me.  If there's a problem, it could affect the team and our priorities and I can't let that happen."

Sam had to try hard to stifle a chuckle and Jack shot her an annoyed look.

"Sorry, Sir, it's just I came in here to ask if you had a problem with me, yet you've now turned it around to ask if I have a problem with you."

Jack gave in to his own grin and joined Sam in laughing, but he quickly became serious again.

"Carter, I need to know; why didn't you tell me you were injured?"

"I wasn't that hurt, I was fine," she shrugged.

"You do trust me though, right?"

Sam met his eyes with shock, disbelief written all over her face.

"With my life, Sir," she answered seriously.

"But not with what you think are minor injuries," he said so quietly that Sam almost didn't hear.

"Sir, I'm sorry and I'll make sure my mission report does not reflect badly on you –"

"I don't care about how it reflects on me, Carter," he interrupted to say.

"I know, Sir, but I'll include the reason why I didn't report the injury – that I thought I could handle it and I wanted to get back to the 'gate that night, but knew we wouldn't make it if we had to stop to strap my ankle and I also knew you'd slow the pace if I was injured."

"Don't worry about it, Carter, just write your mission report as normal and Hammond and I will deal with the rest."

Sam nodded, but didn't attempt to stand.

"Sir?" she said hesitantly.  At his look, she continued, "If you were pissed at me for not telling you I was injured…"

"Yeah?" he prompted.

"Why did you help me?"

"What?"

"When I finally told you about my ankle, you didn't seem pissed, you helped me out, no questions asked and it was the same that night, when I threw up, you were great about it all; I don't get why you were like that then, but you were totally different this morning."

"When you first told me, my instincts kicked in and I did what I needed to do to get your ankle strapped," he said honestly, placing his elbows on his desk and resting his chin on his hands.  "When I took my watch, I was thinking about things and I was pretty pissed and I wouldn't have changed from that if you hadn't been awake and then going into shock.  Since you were, my instincts took over again but, once you were sorted out, I started trying to work out why you hadn't told me."

"And you jumped to the wrong conclusion," she commented.

"What conclusion was I supposed to reach, Carter?" he said testily, "It wasn't like you were forthcoming with anything, was it?"

"You could have just asked me then though, Sir, rather than brooding about it."

His eyes shot up again to meet hers.

"_Brooding_?"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I mean… I…"

"Carter, just forget it."

"No, brooding was the wrong word, but you should have talked to me, Sir."

"And you'd have told me the reason?" he asked skeptically.

"Well… uh…"

"As I thought, Carter."

"I guess we're both as bad as each other," she shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah," he agreed, a grin breaking out over his face as he added, "I bet Hammond just loves us, the CO and second-in-command of the flagship team and neither one of us follows the golden rule of communication between team members."

"We communicate in our own way, Sir," said Sam before her brain could stop her.

Jack looked at her, but just smiled and nodded slightly.

"You heading home?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah."

"Need a ride?"

"I'll be okay, I'll get an airman to take me."

"Carter, I'll take you," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"You look like you still have a lot of paperwork to get through, Sir."

"It'll still be here in the morning, unfortunately."

"I thought you were on downtime as of tomorrow?"

  
"I _was_, until Hammond realized I hadn't finished the monthly reports."

"Uh, Sir, it's only the middle of the month, the reports aren't due until the end of the month."

"_This_ month's are, yes," he smiled, "But these are last month's," he said, indicating the paperwork stacked on his desk.

"Ah, well, in that case, shouldn't you just work until you finish them, so you don't have to come back in tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I probably should," he shrugged, "But, I've never been one to do the sensible thing so, come on, Carter, let's get you home."

"You really don't have to drive me home, Sir."  
  


"Carter, like I said earlier, I want, no, I _need_ to be able to do something to help, it's in my nature."

Sam nodded and waited for him to shrug on his jacket and hold the door open for her to pass.

"Sir, you're right, there was another reason," she said softly as she reached the door.  He turned sharply and looked at her, but remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate.  "I was worried I'd disappoint you by telling you," she admitted, "which I guess is kind of crazy since you said I disappointed you by _not_ telling you; don't you just love 'catch 22s'?"

"Why would you have disappointed me by telling me?" he asked, thoroughly confused and making no move to leave his office.

"I slipped and fell because I wasn't really looking where I was going, I wasn't concentrating."

"I should have warned you though, I was probably blocking your view."

A slight blush crept onto Sam's cheeks, which Jack immediately noticed.  A smile emerged on his face as he realized what she had actually been concentrating on at the time of her fall.

"Come on, let's get you home," he said by way of a subject change, much to Sam's relief.

"Sir, about earlier," she said quietly as they walked towards her lab so she could grab her stuff, "Are we good?"

Jack looked at her for a moment as they walked and then nodded.

  
"We're good," he replied softly.

**

The End


End file.
